


Blend

by olympia_m



Series: Between two places [1]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series, 闇の末裔 | Yami No Matsuei | Descendants of Darkness
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 05:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11593929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olympia_m/pseuds/olympia_m
Summary: A quiet moment between two people.





	Blend

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing here belongs to me. The characters are the property of their creaters, Yamane Ayano and Yoko Matsushita. I'm borrowing them for while, just for fun. We all know that, right?

Oriya could stay still for hours when he thought no one was looking. Feilong knew because he’d seen him. He envied his discipline sometimes, but other times it made him sad. Even without a sword in hand Feilong knew when someone stood guard. 

Perhaps he ought to thank Muraki for having trained the man so well. 

Instead he got out of bed, pushing the covers towards Oriya’s empty side of the bed. He went to the kitchen first, started heating the water, and took down the teapot. Next he checked the teas: not assam for this hour of the night, nor chrysanthemum. But maybe this? He warmed the teapot, discarded the first water, and started heating the second water as he prepared his blend. When the water was barely starting to boil, he poured it. 

Teapot on a tray, two cups on either side, Feilong went to find Oriya. 

Who pretended to read right next to the window, as if he hadn’t spent the last few hours staring at Hong Kong’s nightscape seeing who knew what. Whose yukata fell off his left shoulder as he turned to face him, when Feilong turned one of the smaller lamps on, and Feilong could see all the marks his teeth had left on Oriya’s skin, that wreath of dark-red blooms that would soon turn purple. He should get him real flowers in the morning. 

“I made us tea,” he said, putting the tray down on the table in front of the sofa, and waiting for Oriya to move. 

“Thank you.”

“Let it steep for two more minutes,” he warned as Oriya stared at the pot, hands starting to reach for it on their own accord. Feilong reached for him instead and guided him next to him. He couldn’t stop himself from rubbing the soft skin over Oriya’s palm and then trailing his fingers over his fencer’s calluses. The difference in texture was maddening and enticing. 

Oriya smiled. “May I?” he asked, freeing himself from Feilong’s ineffectual caresses to pour the tea. A cup for Feilong first, then one for him. A nod, another smile, and then a dainty sniff. At that Oriya closed his eyes and took a small sip. He moaned in pleasure few moments later. 

Feilong smiled and tried it too. Yes, this was worth relishing. The taste was sweet, with surprising flowery tones. “I put gyokouro and silver needle together,” he explained. 

“A Japanese and Chinese tea blend,” Oriya said, still smiling, “Like us.”

“Like us,” Feilong agreed. When he took Oriya’s hand in his own again, Oriya didn’t mind his caresses.


End file.
